


Loki's Allure Part II

by PeachDream91



Series: Loki's Allure [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Conflict of Interests, Denial of Feelings, Dominance, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Feelings Realization, Gratuitous Smut, Internal Conflict, Porn With Plot, Sex, Stockholm Syndrome, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23709748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachDream91/pseuds/PeachDream91
Summary: After spiraling rapidly into a deep and dark attraction for the world's most dangerous invader, Agent Nystrom continues to face the turmoil of being captured by such an enticing being.Until she realizes that the harder challenge would come after being freed from his clutches.Part 2 of the one-shot (now series), Loki's Allure
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Loki's Allure [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707583
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	Loki's Allure Part II

**Author's Note:**

> I had a few people ask for a continuation back when Loki's Allure was first posted, and I confess I am still having just as much fun with this story as the first time around. So, here we are. 
> 
> Enjoy some naughty delights, my fellow Loki fans!

* * *

Freyja couldn’t imagine ever forgiving herself now. She fought through guilt and shame as Barton bound her wrists and ankles. She faced the inner battler as she watched Loki conversing with his forced minions, realizing still that no amount of shame or guilt could quell the draw she felt towards him. 

_What dark magic is this?_ She wondered internally, sitting helplessly on a crate as she continued to stare at her captor. _What forces could have possibly captivated me so quickly and completely?_

She breathed a heavy sigh as she answered her own questions. She knew very well what ‘forces’ had affected her so. They were neither magic nor inherently dark, but merely the strongest feelings of desire and attraction she’d ever known in her 26 years of life. She both resented and respected this alien being, somehow hating yet wanting him simultaneously. He was regal and powerful and smug, yet vulnerable and complex. Something deeply emotional lie beneath this facade of arrogance, some sorrow or shame that he was trying to hide. She saw it in the eyes that had so easily captivated her. This Asgardian being had not always been this evil, she was sure of it.

_What happened to you, Loki? Why are you so sad and angry and full of inner turmoil?_

Freyja briefly allowed her eyes to close as she felt a strange wave of emotions rush through her like a bittersweet cocktail. Amongst the feelings was pity, but a unique form of it. It was something that she’d only ever felt when something awful happened to someone she genuinely cared about. Yet she’d only just met this particular someone.

Voices and nearing footsteps sent her eyes popping back open, halting her thoughts immediately.

“Selvig will take it for now,” Loki was saying as he and Barton now approached. “He’ll inform you later as to where. We can take the jet above to Stuttgart.”

“And I’m assuming the straggler is to come along with us?” Barton said, a slight hint of sardonic undertone lacing his words. 

Loki’s eyes squinted at the influenced agent. “Are we going to have a problem with that?”

“That all depends on how much you’re willing to let her get away with. How long you’re planning on continuing to let her live, unchecked.”

“ _Your_ purpose could only be fulfilled through this.” Loki hefted his scepter indicatively. “Her purpose is...inherently different.”

“You prefer her as she is,” Barton surmised, stating it as matter-of-factly as if they were discussing a recipe. “But you are ignoring the risks.”

“You are underestimating my control of her. And of the situation.”

“You’re the boss. But once we’re in Stuttgart, I have no intentions of dragging her along for the rest of my assignment.”

“Nor were you asked to.” Loki halted his slow gait once they were close to Freyja, glancing her way to throw her a taunting smirk. “She will be collected by that team they send to capture me.”

Barton frowned, his electric-blue eyes still expressionless otherwise. “You’re planning on her being reunited with SHIELD?”

“There’s nothing she can tell them that will compromise us. And I’ll be right there, nearby,” Loki looked back at her again, grinning as their eyes met. “Able to snatch her back at a moment’s notice.” His smile deepened as Freyja glared at him, only dropping it when he turned back to face Barton. “Ready the jet.”

“Sir,” Barton replied with an obedient nod before heading towards the elevator. 

“You must be terribly exhausted,” Loki said with a chuckle as he closed in on Freyja. “I’m being rather inconsiderate by keeping you awake. You’ll need to regain some of that energy of yours.” His voice deepened suggestively, his hand reaching out to caress her face. He let out a sharp breath of a laugh as she jerked away from his gesture. “Keep up the charade all you like, darling. We both know it to be an empty resistance.”

“Why am I restrained again? What was the damn point of all of that ‘at my side’ bullshit?” She nearly spat her inquiries at him.

Another chuckle. “You are far too conflicted to trust just yet. As hopelessly wrapped up in me as I believe you to be, you are still a SHIELD agent. A feisty one, at that.” His smile almost seemed fond as he added the last comment. 

Freyja scoffed. “I should have stabbed you when I had the chance.” 

Loki let out a full laugh, one that sounded both icey and amused. 

“You _never_ had the chance, my dear. And I do not advise you to underestimate me; the loss of control you may perceive in me while we’re together should not be mistaken for lowered defenses. I’ll _always_ have my guard up. Besides,” he cupped her jaw forcefully as he leaned towards her ear, “We both know how much _you_ lost your _self_ back there. There’s no chance you were thinking of _anything_ but how good I felt.” His voice fell into a cruel whisper, finishing off his smug statement with a quick lick of her ear. She flinched from it, hating the goosebumps that consequently sprang over her. Almost as much as she hated the deep chuckle as Loki noticed her reaction.

“You’re letting SHIELD take me back?” She blurted to change the subject. “Why?” 

His brow furrowed slightly, as if the answer should be obvious. “For the same reason I am going to allow them to capture me: the chaos of confusion.”

“No. There’s a reason you want to be where they are. What is it?”

He scoffed at her. “You honestly believe I would tell you all of the intricacies of my plan?”

“But if I _didn’t_ tell them, wouldn’t it prove my full loyalty?” Freyja sounded so sincere in that moment, she almost believed herself.

Loki studied her. “Why would I believe your motives?”

“Proving such loyalty could make for a better situation for myself. Once you escape and take me with you.”

“You assume much.” He squinted at her. “What makes you think you’re coming with me after?”

“That’s what you implied to Barton.” Freyja shrugged, trying to seem casually collected. “And I see no reason why you wouldn’t.”

“You’d rather betray your own people so that you could continue like this? To stay a loyal supporter that does my bidding by day and warms my bed by night?”

She locked eyes with him unflinchingly. “There are worse ways to end up enslaved.”

A satisfied chuckle escaped him as he grinned widely. “You are accepting my inevitable rule, then?”

“It seems to be the wisest assumption at this point.”

“And if you should start to doubt it? What then? If SHIELD convinces you that this team of theirs can overpower me and prevent my army from dominating your planet? You’d simply betray me. Or is your loyalty so fair-weathered that you’d have me believe a trained agent has turned around so fully in a matter of a mere few hours?”

“Training never included the most intense seduction in the history of wartime.” Freyja regretted her lighthearted retort as soon as it escaped her mouth. She took a deep breath as if to try and clear the air before speaking again. “I’m not ‘fair-weathered’ in my loyalty, but I have already promised to stay by your side. Just because I re-evaluated where I stand after being with you doesn’t mean I’ll continue to do so at every turn. I can admit when I’ve been won over.”

Loki’s responding laugh was breathy and wicked. 

“I have no doubt I’ve ‘won you over’. At least as far as your _physical_ responses are concerned. But humans are foolish and unpredictable, and I have no intentions of putting my faith in a _free_ one.”

“I’m hardly free,” she countered, raising her bound wrists with a wry expression.

Loki took both her hands in one large one of his. “Your _mind_ is free. As I prefer it to be. At least for now.” He smirked and raised her hands to his lips, landing a kiss before dropping them as the sound of the elevator echoed. He turned towards it with a determined look. “It’s time to make a small journey,” he announced, as if to the whole bunker.

Freyja turned to see the empty elevator as it came to a halt, realizing that Barton had sent it back down for them once he’d prepared the jet. She rose to her feet as Loki gently lifted under her arm, steadying her from swaying on her bound ankles. 

“Can we at least lose these?” She asked, nodding pointedly towards her lower restraints. “It’s not as if I have anywhere to run. I hate being carried everywhere, and it only slows you down, anyway.”

“It doesn’t slow me in the slightest. But you are not entirely wrong; you indeed do _not_ have anywhere to run. Nor _could_ you outrun me, even so,” he added with a smirk. 

Freyja was still suppressing a shiver at the thought of him giving chase, when her lower restraints loosened magically, freeing her feet to walk alongside him as he headed towards the elevator. Throwing him a sideways glance, she almost thought she witnessed a look of contentment on the God of Mischief’s face, as if he were momentarily satisfied by her willingness to fall into step alongside him.

As they emerged from the lift, Loki took Freyja’s arm to guide her towards the small jet that Barton was revving up. Immediately upon boarding, his strong hand pressed her down into one of the side-facing seats behind the tiny cockpit, turning his back to her as he approached Barton. He missed the burning glare that she shot at him, but she didn’t let that lessen the resentment she poured into the glower. She only let up as they took off, her focus forcibly brought to her legs in order to stabilize herself from falling right over due to the lack of a belt or free arms. Loki turned in time to see her legs splaying out jerkingly, his amusement showing freely.

“Careful, dear,” he taunted with a slight smirk. “I need you to remain undamaged.”

She let out a loud scoff. “Toys are much less fun when bruised up, aren’t they?” Her voice sounded as biting as her eyes looked in that moment.

“Come now, you know that you are more than a mere object. Why do you think I haven’t touched you with this?” He lifted the scepter. 

Freyja scowled and looked away from him, but she couldn’t deny that he had a point. She knew he was enjoying the way she was drawn to him. The way she freely and enthusiastically gave herself to him. 

The soft touch on her cheek made her flinch, more from surprise than actual distaste. His long forefinger was tracing down her face, and she couldn’t help but turn to look at him again, her deep blue eyes meeting the viridian ones above her. 

“Surely you’ve felt the potential here just as much as I have,” he said quietly, his deceptively gentle voice nearly giving her goosebumps all over again. “If you continue to prove your loyalty to me, who knows? Perhaps one day you may even be more than my...special servant.” His lips twitched with pleased amusement as he said the last two words.

“ _Surely_ you don’t think I’m that stupid,” she retorted. “That I would believe any of your empty and vague promises.”

He replied with a deep chuckle, tilting her head upwards to a nearly painful strain. “I do not think you _stupid_ , but _undone_. You are listening to every word, whether your better judgement doubts what I say or not.”

Freyja sighed softly, suddenly overcome with exhaustion of every kind. She moved away from him, lowering herself to lie across the seats next to her as the plane finally leveled out enought to allow such movement. Loki looked as if he were considering something for a moment, before bending down to brush a hand over her forehead. The last thing she remembered was giving him a confused look just before she lost consciousness.

~~

Grogginess was usually what Freyja was met with when awakening from a nap, but as she opened her eyes now she felt nothing but refreshed. Slowly leaning back up to a sitting position, she regained her bearings as she tried to figure out how long she had been asleep. Loki was seated across from her, watching her owlishly.

“Better?” He inquired, only the slightest hint of mockery in his tone. 

“Did you...cast a spell on me or something?” She was frowning and blinking rapidly as she continued her attempt to recompose herself.

“Of sorts. I essentially forced you into a deep sleep. I told you I needed you to regain some of your energy.” One corner of his mouth curved into a smirk. 

She let out an exasperated exhale as she scowled at him. “How long have we been flying?”

“Just over an hour.” He rose to cross the short distance between them, eyes darkening in a way that was enticingly familiar.

Her core thrummed treacherously, as if automatically triggered by this glimpse of his first sign of desire. She forced herself to remain still, consciously keeping her breaths far more steady than they wanted to be. 

“For a moment, I was almost worried that you wouldn’t prove to be quite as...insatiable as I.” Loki’s smirk deepened wickedly as he tantalizingly caressed his fingers down her neck. “But you have so many tells.”

Freyja tried not to allow her pride to be hurt by the fact that he saw right through her. Instead, she mustered every last resolve into ignoring how his fingers seemed to be igniting her skin. She had to at least put up _some_ resistance. Otherwise, she was not truly any more free than Barton or Selvig.

“You read my ‘tells’ wrong; I’m not in the mood at all.” Her tone was dismissive and flat. 

He grinned as he brushed her blonde locks behind her ear. “Still making a feeble attempt at resisting your own desires?”

“I’m merely resisting _your_ desires.” Her eyes bored into him glaringly.

Loki sighed impatiently, eyes still continuing to darken lustfully. Her adorable act of defiance only made her more attractive, and he was far from satisfied after merely one round with her. And this would be their last opportunity for an unknown amount of time. 

“Freyja, we’ll be parted once we land. There’s not much time for games.” 

She fought to keep her glare steady, until she realized that his expression was becoming nakedly hungry. It both terrified and excited her at once. 

Loki was suddenly pulling her to her feet, guiding her roughly towards the small door in the back corner. Freyja stumbled behind him, struggling to gain footing in the abruptness of his movements. He threw the door open, revealing a space the size of a walk-in closet. A cot was laid along one wall, and a sliver of sunlight was shining through the smallest slit of a window. Freyja’s breathing quickened as Loki shut the door, the close quarters only accentuating her apprehension.

“You really _do_ need more again so soon?” She questioned, sounding much less taunting than she’d intended as her voice cracked through her breaths. 

Loki rounded her to face him, his own back now against the closed door, as if they’d switched roles since their romp in the office. His eyes were burning into her. Her own were widening as she drank him in, and she knew her expression was growing to be as primal as his.

“I’m finding my ‘need’ to be significantly increasing each time I lay eyes on you,” he softly told her. “Your beauty and your own obvious desire seem to fuel mine. As do your fiery, stubborn attempts at defiance.”

Freyja let out a small scoff. “You think I could still want you after you drew out a promise of loyalty from me, knowing full well that you’d still treat me as nothing but a prisoner anyway?”

His wicked chuckle answered her immediately. “You’re truly going to try to stick with that?” 

His eyes flickered downwards before he teasingly nipped her bottom lip. He grinned with satisfaction as she breathed a whimper. 

“There’s my girl.”

She glared up at him, lust and resentment both mounting equally. 

“I am _not_ ‘your girl’.”

His eyebrows raised in amusement. “Are you _not_?” His hand slid down her throat, palm pressing against her heart as if her own beat would betray her. They both knew that it would. 

“Are you quite _sure_ you’re not?” He continued to taunt as his hand grazed down her breast, before abruptly wrapping around her waist to crush her against him. 

He kissed her roughly, his other hand holding the side of her face in a reverence that highly contrasted with the urgency of his mouth. Freyja melted against him almost helplessly, giving in as quickly as they both had known she ultimately would. Her full lips parted against his, tongues lapping against one another as her arms wrapped around him. A wanton noise sounded in her throat as she felt his rising excitement press into her abdomen.

“Freyja,” Loki whispered against her mouth. “How did you so quickly come to be such an astonishing distraction for me?”

“There are forces in the universe that even _your_ kind can’t explain, apparently,” she answered in a throaty voice before returning to devour his mouth with hers. She felt him smile against her.

_This is the side of Loki that no one is seeing,_ she thought as they continued to further their entanglement. _And it’s the side that I’ll probably never be able to_ un _see._

That was the thought that made her hesitate. She started to pull away from him just enough to break the kiss. Loki’s hold of her immediately tightened, fighting against her sudden withdrawal.

“Loki,” she uttered softly, fully aware that her emotional tie to the name was sounding through in her voice. But as his eyes met hers, she saw nothing but confusion and worry in them. And she suddenly felt her hesitation diminish. 

“I need you,” was all she ended up saying. 

He flashed a wide grin, one free of smugness or mockery. He was simply and purely pleased in that short moment. 

“I’m right here,” he whispered before reconnecting with her lips. 

Her small statement had spurred him on more than she could have expected, his soft moans almost sounding like growls as he eagerly tore at her suit to grope down her body with mounting passion. His breathing grew ragged. Freyja’s wasn’t much better. Her hand was gripping tightly into his weathered hair as he lowered his mouth to her breast, sucking a nipple through her thin bra and drawing a whimper out of her as he did so.

The sudden knock at the door brought an angry noise out of Loki that made Freyja worry for the person on the other side.

“What?” Loki snarled.

Barton’s voice responded unaffected. “Autopilot successfully engaged, but I’ll keep an eye out for any followers. In the meantime, we need to set up the extractor.”

Freyja gave a small frown of puzzlement, arousal still fogging her mind too much for her to connect what Barton was referring to. Loki was rolling his eyes as he gently pushed her away to compose himself. Reluctance obvious in his every movement, he finally opened the door to exit.

“Wait!” Freyja exclaimed as she scrambled to re-close her suit before Barton could see. Even in his zombified state, she still felt uncomfortable with the thought.

“No worries, my dear,” Loki turned his head to say. “I’ll be back shortly.”

With that, the door closed behind him before she could move forward. She tried to open it even as she heard it lock. Landing a fist against it in exasperation, she cursed the god. 

A long sigh escaped her as she sank down onto the tiny cot, left alone with her guilt and shame and arousal once again. Somehow being in this tiny, dark space made it all the worse. 

She quickly grew distracted, however, as she realized she was able to catch some of the things the two men were saying beyond the door. Laying down on her side, she pressed her ear against the cot to catch some reverb from the wall it touched.

“As it is, this equipment will allow you to extract the eyeball,” Barton was saying. “But we need to calibrate it with my piece so that it will project the hologram in real time.”

“Perhaps I should have brought one of the engineers from the base we just left,” Loki responded with some annoyance as he inspected whatever Barton was referring to.

“You may have an easier time if you kill the man first,” Barton continued. “The pain will make him struggle a lot, and a perfect extraction could be difficult.”

“You are underestimating my strength over your feeble kind,” Loki sounded miffed. “To even suggest that a mere Midgardian mortal could possibly prove difficult for me to handle? There’s no need to take his life. Besides, the show of agony will be a nice touch to the fear I plan on instilling in the onlookers. Chaos and fear are elemental in asserting dominance.”

“You’re the boss,” Barton said absently as he audibly tinkered with something.

Freyja let out the breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. _He’s going to yank someone’s eyeball out for security access,_ she thought with disgust. _And apparently even_ relish _in the pain and fear the act will cause._

A dry sob escaped her as the shame descended yet again. _What the hell am I doing?_ She questioned herself for the upteenth time. _He’s a monster, and I still can’t seem to even get past this hideously inappropriate crush._

The solidification of that last thought seemed to sober her, and she clung to it for the long moment that she was left in the closed space. She was so wrapped up in anger and resentment that she barely even flinched when the door swung open suddenly.

“Please forgive the interruption,” Loki said with a slight smirk. “I’m terribly sorry to keep you waiting.”

Freyja let out a lazy scoff. “Stay out there. I was enjoying the clarity that comes with your absence.”

Loki seemed to consider her words for a moment as he slowly closed the door behind him. “You needed reprieve from being so intoxicated?”

Freyja shifted to her other side, facing away from him as she ignored his comment. The action apparently earned some amusement as she heard a chuckle sound behind her.

“I know your ideals remain conflicted, darling,” he whispered as he leaned over her, brushing a hand through her hair. The gentleness of it was disgustingly contrasted with the words that were still burning into Freyja’s mind over and over. 

_‘The show of agony will be a nice touch to the fear I plan on instilling in the onlookers.’_

An entirely different kind of whimper escaped her now, and the sound of it made even Loki pause. Brow furrowing, he leaned back up and removed his hand.

“Mortals will never cease to baffle,” he thought aloud. “How you can be so utterly fickle will always remain a mystery.”

“How you can be so utterly _cruel_ will always remain a mystery,” Freyja spat back. “Just leave me alone. You’ve had your fun, and you still have your hostage or whatever the hell you have planned for when the Avengers arrive. Just stay away from me.”

“Freyja.” 

Something about the way he said her name made her turn, now lying almost flat on her back as she stared up at him with painfully conflicted eyes.

“We are _both_ far from being done with our ‘fun’,” he continued with a mischievous expression. “And, _moreover_ , nothing could have changed this much in the short time I was outside. You were practically begging to be taken once more, and suddenly you can’t even stand my proximity?”

“Your repulsive plan was a bit of a _turn off_.” 

“You are not so naive as to have expected the violence to be over yet. It has only begun. There’s a _war_ coming, Freyja. _Re_ construction always requires a _de_ struction to start with.”

“Said every megalomaniac dictator in history,” she mumbled as a dryness began to close her throat. 

Loki’s patience began to wear off. “I’ll never take pleasure not willingly given, Freyja, so you may shortly get your wish of being left alone.”

His pause left the most uncomfortable silence in the air for several moments, until Freyja’s anticipation began to outweigh her disgust.

“However,” he leaned back down until his mouth was nearly touching her ear. “I’ll need a bit of evidence that I am _truly_ not wanted first.” His hand was back on her, this time skillfully stroking down her neck, grinning as he watched the ever-so-subtle squirm her body gave. “We both know how weak-willed your declarations of repulsion truly are.”

One forefinger trailed down her sternum, her suit still mostly open and allowing easy access as he lowered to her breasts. She struggled to keep her breathing steady, knowing she would likely not be able to keep from betraying herself for long. 

“For all your supposed convictions about what is right and wrong,” he said softly. “You still remain so _unsure_ about me. The outsider who threatens to turn everything upside down, who goes against everything that you stood for. It should be such an easy answer, such an automatic labelling of me as ‘enemy’. But you are too complex. Too _conflicted_. I can’t help but wonder what lies beneath that.”

His hand was slowly unzipping her suit the rest of the way, the double entendre of his last statement not lost on her as he did so. Freyja gathered up her last bit of conviction to respond, striving to ignore the way her core awoke more and more with his every touch.

“It’s not because I have a conflicted ‘dark side’, if that’s what you’re implying. Perhaps it’s actually because _you_ are a complex being yourself. I can’t just paint you as some simple villain.” Her breath caught at the last word as his fingers dipped inside her underwear. “Please stop,” she added weakly.

“I cannot believe that you actually want me to, darling,” he responded in the smoothest of tones. “Not when you’re so _damned_ wet for me.” His eyes fluttered closed briefly as one finger met the warm wetness he spoke of. 

Freyja felt her hips treacherously jut slightly upwards, as if her body was automatically leaning into his delicious touch despite her mind. She already knew she was a goner. A thought only more confirmed as she watched him bring that same finger to his lips to lick her arousal from it.

“Fuck,” she whispered under her breath as she watched. 

The wickedest of smirks crossed his face as he leaned over. “We are about to, my beauty,” he said softly, right before kissing her. 

The sigh that caught in Freyja’s throat as he landed the soft kiss was entirely involuntary. The tongue she slipped him wasn’t, although she was admittedly surprising herself with her own willingness to deepen the kiss. Loki’s hum of approval with her enthusiasm only spurred her further however, until she was passionately devouring him. She was getting so caught up in the feel and taste of his mouth - a taste that had a hint of her left in it - that she almost didn’t catch the smirk that was pulling his lips taught.

“Shut up,” she whispered as she realized his gloating was inevitably coming. She punctuated her command with a hard bite on his lower lip for good measure.

She tried to push against him as he slowly mounted the surprisingly sturdy cot. He hovered over her, leaving mouth-shaped marks down her neck as she continued to strain her hands against his shoulders in vain. But how quickly her last drop of resolve melted as his rock-hard excitement pressed into her.

_There’s not enough iron in the world to strengthen my will against this,_ she thought foggily. Suddenly her mind was filling with nothing but flashbacks to the office, to how very perfect and large he was underneath that leather that was currently straining to its limits. Her hand was reaching down before she even realized it, drawn to what she knew lie beneath. When she finally met her destination, she was too focused on the feel of it to notice his smug chuckle.

“You feel the effect you have on me, Freyja?” Loki whispered breathlessly into her mouth. A whimper was all she could manage to respond with as his hand dipped back into her panties.

Two long, lithe fingers were instantly filling her up. The softest whine escaped her as she felt them rub against a particularly sensitive spot. A fresh new wave of arousal rushed out of her in response, and Loki’s throat seemed to catch a primal growl just before it rose. His mouth ceased it’s marking of her neck to return to her lips, kissing her so passionately that for a moment she couldn’t remember that this man was still really more enemy than lover. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she explored his tongue with hers. His thumb began rubbing her clitoris while his fingers remained lodged inside of her, and she moaned right into his mouth. 

“I want you to beg for it,” he breathed against her lips. “ _Beg_ me to take you.”

As far gone as she already was, Freyja still wasn’t quite to the humble level of begging just yet. She knew very well that _he_ knew she wanted him very much, but she _also_ knew he wanted _her_.

The thought made her wear a wicked grin for once.

“No,” she said softly, yet still managing to sound resolute. 

Loki’s eyes flared briefly before he grinned and breathed a chuckle. “Are you sure you want to play this game, my dear? Against _me_?”

“We’ll see who’s begging soon enough,” she shot back, still smirking as she sat up in the cot. Her movement caused him to have to lean back, his fingers slipping out of her as he did so. She forced herself to not show the slightest bit of disappointment with their sudden absence.

The second flare of his eyes seemed a bit more serious, but there was still a hungry playfulness in them as his hand crept up to her throat to hold it in place. Her neck was met with the dampness of the two fingers that had just emerged from her. 

“You may have felt my desire for you, darling, but never forget for a moment under whose control you still are. I _rule_ you.”

Freyja was suddenly glad he couldn’t feel the renewed wetness that flowed from her. He needn’t know just how arousing _this_ apparently was for her.

As she swallowed thickly, the pressure of his hand felt just a bit too tight against the motion of her throat. “Not yet,” she voiced, much more weakly than she would’ve liked.

The grip tightened just marginally enough to squeeze a hint of fear into her. He leaned down to bite her ear. It both tantalized and stung her. 

“I’ve ruled you since the moment you laid eyes on me.” His words were spoken quietly into her ear, yet they sounded quite sharp all the same. “You’ll _never_ be free of me.” 

As his fingers curled in emphasis of the word ‘never’, Freyja felt her core tremble. Tremble with anticipation as much as with burning resentment, with lust along with dread.

She warred for a moment between remaining silent or spitting a retort. It quickly became too late however, as his hand slid around the back of her neck to crush her lips against his. She quickly felt them start to swell with the pressure.

A slight draft swept over her, telling her that her clothes had suddenly disappeared. Her hands had minds of their own as they explored his equally-bare torso, and she hummed against his lips with satisfaction. His chiseled perfection felt almost as good as his mouth tasted.

A mouth that now traveled downwards, his hand finally freeing her neck entirely as he moved lower and lower. Freyja’s breathing quickened as Loki’s warm lips met her breasts, then continued south to the very peak of her folds. His tongue teased and drew out a very distinct mewling sound from her. She felt him smirk against her, just before he began to fully ravish her.

Freyja didn’t bother to hold back from moaning as she arched her back and neck. Loki was effectively clearing her mind of absolutely anything that wasn’t ecstacy, and she knew nothing but raw desire as her hand gripped into his hair to hold him tightly against her. Her pelvis moved urgently as she began grinding herself against his magical mouth. 

And then it was all suddenly gone, just as quickly as their clothes had disappeared. Freyja opened her eyes, head popping up with disappointed confusion as she looked for the source of her suddenly-halted pleasure.

Loki’s smirk was beyond self pleased, his lips still moistened from her arousal as he stood above her to stare gloatingly.

“Beg,” was all he said, his tone pure authority and smug confidence.

Her face contorted with frustration and annoyance. She tried to convey a resounding ‘no’ in her glare, but her body was thrumming tortuously for him to finish her. Leaning up on her elbows behind her, she stared him down as she tried to calm her labored breaths. Loki’s eyes shamelessly flickered down to her breasts as her breathing heaved rhythmically. 

After a pause, Freyja finally gave in. Her body was in no way about to cool down, and she knew his stubborn resolve would ultimately keep him more patient than her. 

“I beg you, Loki,” she nearly growled the words. “I beg you to take me.”

“Say that you’re _mine_ ,” he commanded sharply, his hand grabbing the back of her head to pull it towards his solid arousal.

Freyja’s mouth was watering as if automatically anticipating what was to come. She locked eyes with Loki as she obeyed. 

“I’m yours,” she whispered, just before taking as much of him into her mouth as she could. 

He cursed under his breath as she bobbed her head up and down, sucking harder than she could ever remember sucking anything in her life. His hand tangled into her hair as he held more tightly. She had never felt so simultaneously empowered and owned.

Her shoulders were abruptly pushed back down to the cot, landing her harshly enough that a grunt escaped her. She was just thinking that the suddenness of his whims and movements should stop catching her so utterly off guard, when he plummeted into her with no grace or warning. Her cry was an equal mix of surprise and pleasure-pain. 

“You made me far too impatient,” Loki said pantingly, staying motionlessly seated to the hilt, apparently savoring the feel of her.

“You’re a bastard,” she hissed, still barely catching her breath from the sudden penetration. 

Somehow the scowl he gave her was just as attractive as any other expression of his godlike features. He leaned on one arm to allow his other hand to grip her throat once more. She felt the constriction close in at the same time he began to move inside of her.

“I’m a _king_ ,” he growled. 

The sudden sweet release of her neck was quickly interrupted by a new strain as he leaned up to push her legs back till they almost met her head. The new depths he reached this way were agonizing yet deliciously intense, leaving her gasping desperately for air.

He moved more aggressively now, the build-up towards climax evident in his eyes until he was forcing himself to slow down. She could see a short struggle, as if he were weighing out finishing versus drawing this all out longer. Slowly, he released her legs, letting them lower comfortably. His eyes stayed on her as he pulled out, standing at the foot of the cot before her. 

“Turn around,” he gruffly commanded. 

She stubbornly stayed put for a moment, before deciding that she would likely enjoy this just as much as he. She flipped over, supporting herself on her forearms as she raised her lower half upwards like a cat stretching. Somehow this position was almost too vulnerable, even after all they’d already done. She felt as though she shouldn’t be so willingly presenting herself this way, but his re-entry very quickly cut off any further thought. 

This time he did it slowly, gripping into her hips tightly as he reclaimed her. His rhythm picked back up, ragged breathing quickly telling her that he was again very near the end. One hand dropped from her hip to reach between her thighs, fingers working perfectly on her as he thrust into her. 

With a cry, she soon came undone, her hands gripping into the cot till her knuckles turned white. Loki followed suit as her climax pushed him over the final edge to his own. He spilled deep inside of her for a second time since they’d met, groaning and holding her tightly as he did so.

“Freyja,” he whispered breathlessly as he landed kisses against her back, an arm snaking around her stomach to keep posession of her in every way possible. “You just might be my own personal Valhala.”

Conflicting responses surfaced in her mind, but she said nothing. She was partly still distracted enough by the feel of him still inside her, of his hot wet kisses down her body as he held her against the planes of his torso.

In a manner far too gentle to be his norm, Loki turned Freyja over, kissing her warmly and affectionately.

“Rest a bit more,” he said softly. “Tonight may not be the easiest thing for you to get through.”

Before she could voice her confusion or ask what exactly her part would be, she felt a wave of sleep wash over her. She recognized his magic once more, and cursed him internally just before drifting off. 

~~

A less than smooth landing woke Freyja some moments later. She jolted off of the cot, reflexively reaching for a weapon that she quickly remembered was long gone from her hip. She did, however, find herself fully clothed now. Her brow furrowed as she regained her bearings, shifting in slight discomfort as she realized that she was most certainly still covered in sexual evidence underneath said clothing. She groaned with the annoyance that Loki could have easily cleaned her up just as easily as he’d clothed her, but he had most definitely left her with his seed on purpose. Yet another reminder that he had full claim on her.

With fresh anger, she tried to force open the door, realizing a bit too late that it was still locked.

“Let me out!” She yelled, pounding the sides of her fists against it. “God _damn_ you, Loki!”

“He’s not in here,” Barton’s emotionless answer came as he popped the door open, causing her to tumble backwards. “Time to go. I have work to do.” 

His arms encased her roughly as he began to tie the familiar cords around her limbs yet again. She struggled harder than ever, her resolve strengthened by renewed fury against their shared captor. 

“Knock it off, Nystrom,” Barton said sternly as his hands began to bruise her through his grip. “I don’t have a lot of time.”

With a final fastening, he threw her over his shoulder. The abruptness of suddenly having a shoulder thrust into her gut almost made her lose what little contents her stomach had. She wriggled ineffectively as Barton crossed over to the open hatch door, exiting into a brisk night in an unfamiliar place. 

A few yards away, they came to a dark corner of a large, elegant building. Freyja heard indistinct voices and music inside. Barton dropped her to her feet, setting down a hard case of something from his other hand.

“Now, are you going to shut up or do I need to gag you?”

Freyja frowned. “What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving you here as ordered. I have a security system to breach downstairs. Your colleagues will be here shortly.”

“You mean the _Avengers_ are coming, thinking they’re capturing Loki when really it’s just another part of his plan.”

“Yeah.” Barton’s admission came impatiently and matter-of-factly.

“And where will _you_ be?”

He frowned at her. “Did you really think that question would work?”

She sighed as he picked up the case and hustled away, rounding the corner out of sight, leaving her there entirely immobile. Freyja scoffed with each of her own attempts to lean against the wall without falling, finally resolving to slowly squat down until she was able to rock onto her backside without too much impact. 

A small crowd could be heard on the other side of the building, and Freyja couldn’t help but start to picture what Loki was about to do. A part of her wanted to hope that he’d softened enough to change his mind, hope that he wouldn’t actually hurt any innocents. But she ultimately knew better.

Sure enough, moments later came screams drifting through the walls. She heard the build up of panic as it spread through the crowds. The outside crowd was much more audible, and Freyja strained to hear through the commotion. And then _his_ voice was booming through the air.

“Kneel!” 

Loki’s shout ricocheted off of the surrounding buildings. Freyja imagined that most - if not all - individuals were now lowering to their knees. She bit her lip as she forced the image of her own obedience out of her mind. The way she had knelt before him so very quickly.

“Is this not your natural state?” Loki’s voice was now rhetorically asking. 

Freyja heard only pieces of what came next, but she gathered that one man had stood up to Loki. She was just straining to hear this brave soul when suddenly a much louder voice could be heard. One that she recognized from a very eventful day back at SHIELD headquarters…

“You know, the last time I was in Germany, and saw a man stand above everybody else...we ended up disagreeing.”

Steve Rogers, the super soldier known as Captain America that they found frozen not very long ago, was now facing the Asgardian threat. The Avengers were here.

Freyja felt a distinctly different type of excitement than she’d felt with Loki. There was no shame in the relief that their arrival was bringing her. There was no heavy uncertainty that came with the pain of both wanting and loathing someone simultaneously. This was pure. This was a promise for freedom, and for _winning_.

But what exactly would it cost, if she came face to face with the final decision to end her new and inappropriately acquired lover?

Freyja pushed that thought deep down, forcing herself to focus on nothing but the glorious sound of Iron Man’s suit flying in, and the unmistakable SHIELD-issued jet that followed. Agent Romanoff’s husky voice was instantly recognizable over the speaker, even though Freyja had only briefly met the remarkable woman once before. 

The jet was now being lowered, and suddenly Freyja felt panic rise rapidly within her. What if Loki changed his mind? What if he aborted the part of the plan that involved her getting picked up too, deciding it was still too risky? Would they be able to find her on their own? They had no reason to have any idea that Loki had a hostage. 

Helplessly tied, she began to worm herself against the cold ground, frantically attempting to round the corner. She knew that even then she’d be invisible, lying low without being able to move around amongst the crowd. But she had to try.

Just as her head rounded the corner, a bootstep fell heavily behind her. 

Or, more accurately, a metallic suit-step.

“Were you captured from a base, or are SHIELD uniforms just all the rage in Germany now?” Stark’s voice asked within his mask.

Freyja tried to crane around to look up at him. “H-he brought me here to make a point. _What_ that was, I’ll probably never know.” Her voice sounded genuinely shaken enough to have passed for a very normal hostage. 

The Iron Man mask retracted to reveal a slightly puzzled Tony Stark. “Were you in New Mexico? No hostages have been reported…”

“I was in the bunker, where Loki and Barton and Selvig came directly after taking the Tesseract and blowing the first base to hell.”

“Ah.” Stark was still frowning. “Well, let’s get you mobile, sweetheart.”

He pointed his leathally-suited palm at the cords that bound her, zapping them ever so quickly so as to not injure her. Much.

“Ouch!” Freyja softly exclaimed.

“Woops, sorry,” Tony’s voice drawled, expression halfway between apologetic and amused as he saw the slight burn on her leg. “We have stuff in the jet for that. Pretty sure.” He helped her to her feet, sparing the slightest of glances over her curves before wrapping an arm around her. 

“Hang on,” he shouted, taking off before even finishing the last word. 

Freyja’s stomach lurched as they jerked off the ground towards the nearby jet. She was suddenly glad she hadn’t eaten recently.

“Sorry, I just haven’t the patience. Why bother walking, right?” He shrugged, looking shamelessly amused by her blanched face. 

Romanoff was rolling her eyes at him when her expression turned slightly confused. 

“Who is she?”

“Hostage, apparently. Ask our new friend.” He nodded in the direction of a tied-up Loki sitting on the side of the jet’s hold.

Freyja’s stomach lurched in an entirely different way. For some reason, she had not yet fully considered the fact that she’d be right back with him so soon, only now in a very different type of situation.

Loki’s expression was almost blank, although she could have sworn she saw a distinct gleam in his eyes as he glanced their direction. 

“One can’t be too careful,” was all he said, responding to Stark’s implied question. 

“Mhm, is that why you came out in plain sight to easily get picked up as if we were a taxi?” Stark’s sarcasm was dripping with obvious suspicion.

Loki didn’t reply, looking away with an expression of utter dismissiveness. But Romanoff and Rogers were now looking uneasy with Stark’s implication. 

“Let’s just get out of here,” Romanoff said, sitting back down in the pilot’s seat. 

The flight started mostly quiet, with the soft banter of Rogers and Stark as the only bit of conversation. Freyja was refusing to look in Loki’s direction, forcing herself to stare out the distant cockpit window. 

A flash of lightning and a crack of thunder broke her free from the struggle. Frowning, she read everyone else to see if she had been caught off guard somehow or if this was truly as out-of -nowhere as she felt it had been.

“Where’s this coming from?” Romanoff’s spoken confusion accidentally confirmed Freyja’s internal question. 

“What’s the matter? Scared of a little lightning?” Rogers was asking their uneasy captive. 

“I’m not overly fond of what follows.”

Freyja was still frowning at Loki’s response when a loud thud hit the outside of the plane. Stark’s mask came down instantly, his stance turning ready for any possible defense that would suddenly be required. Everyone turned towards the resounding pop of the back release opening, Loki’s expression the only one unsurprised at the massive man who now stood there. Freyja knew by context as well as from pictures that came across every SHIELD agent’s radar a year ago: this was Thor. 

Wordlessly, this altogether _different_ Asgardian marched over to his target, casually throwing a hammer to thwart Stark’s attempt at blasting him. Roughly grabbing Loki, Thor spun the same hammer to take off as quickly as he’d arrived. 

Freyja barely heard what was going on, only vaguely aware that Stark was now flying after them and that Rogers was suiting up to somehow follow. She felt herself freeze to her spot as she internally racked her mind for any clue as to how mad Thor would be right now, any hint within her brief knowledge of him as to what kind of being he really was. Would he _kill_ Loki, right then and there?

More importantly, why was this thought bothering her so deeply?

“Guess us girls will just land this damn bird alone,” Romanoff was mumbling as Freyja finally snapped out of it to realize everyone else was gone. 

“Wasn’t…” Freyja had to pause to clear her throat, “wasn’t Thor on the list of friendlies? Of possible Avengers, even?”

“Guess centuries of family dysfunction supersedes all that,” Romanoff answered dismissively. When Freyja remained silent, she spared her a frowning glance. “You okay, kid?”

“Hmm? Yeah, no I’m fine. Just...trying to process all of this,” she excused, somewhat weakly.

“Stark and Rogers can hold their own, I’m sure. Even amongst gods of legend.”

Freyja realized Romanoff was thinking she must be worried about _them_. Which, she granted, would be the normal reaction.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

_I’m safe now,_ Freyja repeatedly thought to herself as she attempted to shake the ridiculous worry she somehow felt for her own captor. _I’m amongst friends,_ good _guys, and I’m free and safe._

If only things were truly that simple.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Sorry that (all) my updates have been super delayed. My job is among those considered essential, and I recently had to also deal with a move, so I've been a bit busy. I truly hope everyone is doing alright out there! Thank God for the little things, right? 
> 
> Best wishes and warmest regards to all readers!


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